“We will. They told me that my style was just what they’re looking for. Authentic life portraits. Real, regular people. The guy even said that I could probably sell a decent number of my photos at an event like theirs. Maybe I could even make a living at it. If I got a part-time job to go along with it. At least for the start, until I make a bigger name for myself.”
“That’s incredible, Addie. I always knew you were talented,” she says.
“Thanks, mom,” I say, giving her a tight hug that, though she doesn’t know it, will be one of the last hugs she gets from me for a while. I’m not saying goodbye for good — in fact, I’m not saying goodbye at all, because that would be too hard — but it will be awhile before my family sees me again. “Since we haven’t heard anything from dad to indicate that the deal has gone bad, I’m going to go back to my place. I need to relax. Will you be able to handle the bar by yourself?”
She gives me another hug.
“Of course. And I am so proud of you, dear. You’ve got bright things ahead of you.”
She gives me a look like she knows what I’m about to do. And maybe she does, in a way. Moms always have a kind of intuition, and my mom is no different. In fact, she’s special.
“I love you, mom. And dad, too. Can you tell him that when he gets back?”
My heart breaks knowing that she will have a lot of questions when they figure out I’ve left. And I hate leaving without telling them where I’m going, but this is something I need to do. If I tell them, they’ll convince me to stay. And I can’t keep sacrificing, over and over, when I don’t know how many more opportunities I’ll have.
“Yes, dear. Are you OK?”
“I’m fine, mom. I’ll see you later, OK?”
“Goodbye, Addie. See you later.”
She’ll cry when she realizes what’s happened. But at least it isn’t permanent. Once I have my life settled — which could happen sooner than I think considering how enthused and supportive the event organizer sounded — I can reach out to her. Let her know where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to. I hope she’ll understand.
As soon as I’ve said my goodbyes, I hurry out the door to my bike, tears brimming in my eyes, and I hide my face behind my helmet even though there’s no one there to see me cry.
When I get back to my place, I pack a backpack and load up a saddlebag with some other essentials. It only takes a few minutes. In my mind, I’ve rehearsed this moment countless times — the time when I break free. Where I set out on my own and start my life.
I always thought I’d be proud. That I’d do this with a smile on my face and supportive parents at my back. Instead, I’m sneaking out like a thief in the night, running away without a word, and the only things I’ll be leaving behind are hurt family and the man I love.
Bags ready, I get on my bike. With a heavy heart and a brain foggy with silent grief, I kickstart my bike and head onto the road, toward the future I’ve always wanted.
The future that’s cost me everything.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Snake
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Agent Perez’s smokey, gruff voice comes through the solid timber of her motel room door.
“She’s kind of hot in a bitchy way,” Axel says, leaning close to me to whisper. “If she weren’t a fed, I’d ask her out. Hell, I might anyway. Bitch or not, she’s got a fine ass.”
“Keep your voice down, Axel,” Stone growls.
“I can fucking hear you, you barrel-bellied fuckwit,” she shouts. In the silence after, there’s the sound of a pistol hammer cocking back. “If you’re here to take me out, you’re the nosiest fucking hit squad I’ve ever heard of. And I’ll have you know, I once went after the Polish Mafia in Minnesota, and those sausage-eating sons of bitches are as subtle as a fucking drunken polka band. So re-evaluate your stealth or get the fuck off my doorstep.”
“Shit, I really like her,” Axel says, raising his voice, because that’s just the kind of man he is. “You know, I thought about hiring a dom once. Something about a woman in leather who just wants to kick your ass before sucking your dick is fucking hot. Didn’t follow through. Too damn expensive.”
“I will shoot you through the fucking door if you don’t tell me why you’re here in the next three seconds,” she screams.
“BD Cooper killed your partner and we’re here to see if you’d like to arrest him,” I answer.
There’s another click; the deadbolt comes undone. The door flies open faster than I can blink and there she is, gun in hand, eyes on fire.
“The fuck did you just say?”
“Exactly like you heard. BD Cooper killed your partner. We know how you can track him down. Do you want revenge or not?”
She holsters her gun. “Tell me how.”
I nod. “You can track your partner’s cell phone number, yeah?”
“I’m not fucking NCIS, my name isn’t fucking Leroy Jethro Gibbs but, yeah, I can fucking track his number by the GPS chip on his phone. If it’s on, that is.”
Stone nods, then he gestures toward the interior of Agent Perez’s room. “That’s good enough for me. Grab whatever shit you need to make it happen and then come with us. Because I can promise you BD Cooper’s location and all the firepower you need
